Steel Grip (Blue Collar Heat #4)

Chapter One

Alice

I know they put magazines out at the doctor’s office as a distraction, but right now, the only thing I’m distracted by is the anxiety they’re causing with articles like:

‘Warning Signs You Should Never Ignore During Pregnancy.’

‘How Stress Can Affect Your Baby’s Brain.’

‘The Birth Plan Mistakes First-Time Moms Always Make.’

How is everyone not stressed? And if stress affects my baby’s brain, why did they publish these stupid magazines?

I flip forward in search for anything hopeful, but I’m bombarded by an onslaught of advertisements for big-ticket strollers that look like SUVs, car seats with long lists of safety features, high-tech bassinets that promise better sleep, skin care, bump care, baby formula, feeding products, hypoallergenic diapers, cord blood banking, apps that track the number of times the baby kicks a day, nursery décor, and prenatal yoga.

Dear God!

I shut the magazine and toss it onto the table in front of me, then lean forward and bury my face in my hands.

How is this happening? How am I here alone? How do I know which crib to pick, or which cream to use on my bump, or how to stay unstressed enough that I don’t ruin my baby’s brain while also doing the most stressful thing in my life?

“You okay?” The blonde woman that came in before me pulls a small bag of ginger candies from her bag and hands them toward me.

“These things distract me from everything. There’s a spicy little aftertaste to them that doesn’t cause heartburn but gets your tongue tingling.

I started eating them when I was pregnant with my son and can’t quit them. Is this your first?”

I nod and turn toward her, taking the ginger candy from her hand.

“Yeah. Someone should warn you that those magazines are terrible, awful, no-good anxiety inducers. I was already worried about which car seat was best. I hadn’t thought about cord blood or the importance of prenatal yoga. Did you do any of that?”

She chuckles low and pops a ginger candy herself.

“No. The most I did was avoid caffeine and fish, and my Jasper turned out fine. If you’re looking for a car seat, I have one he grew out of recently.

It’s still like new if you want it. I’ve also got a bassinet too, and plenty of baby clothes if you’re having a boy. ”

“Really?” I shift my weight toward the blonde as we talk. “That’d be great, but I don’t know how I’d get it home. I’m living in San Francisco right now.”

“San Francisco!” Her eyes widen. “That’s a long drive for a doctor’s appointment.”

“Yeah.” I nod and glance forward at the fish tank in the corner of the room where a puffer fish is puffing.

“I moved out there four months ago. I tried seeing a doctor in the city, but it was so impersonal. So, I made this appointment when I was home for a visit. I just want the basics from someone I trust, ya know?” I push my fingers back through my hair. “What about you? Are you expecting?”

“No. God no!” She shakes her head back and forth quickly as though the mere idea is ridiculous.

“I mean, I loved being pregnant. Don’t get me wrong, Jasper is the love of my life, but I’m not ready for another baby.

” The chair creaks as she shifts. “Which kind of sucks because I always thought I’d have kids close together in age, but my fiancé is,” she trails off and exhales slowly, “we’re working through some things. ”

“I get it. My ex doesn’t even know I’m pregnant.”

“Oh, damn.” The reaction comes with a stunned blink. “How are you hiding it?”

I shrug. “Pretty easily. We haven’t seen each other since I found out.”

“That’ll do it.” She grins. “Are you going to tell him?”

“I know he deserves to know.” I chew the inside of my cheek, and for a second, let myself feel the warmth of this small town that I’ve missed so much.

Where else could I make fast friends with another mom at the doctor’s office?

“Wyatt has the capacity to be a good man. I know that and I’ve seen it, but…

he made this horrible decision to gamble away a bunch of our savings last year, and I haven’t been able to forgive him. ”

“Wyatt… Wyatt Davis?” The woman tucks the bag of ginger back into her purse as she turns toward me. “He’s a big, broad-shouldered guy, right? Has flannel in every color?”

Oh yeah, there’s this part of a small town too. The part where everyone knows everyone.

“That’s him. How do you guys know each other?”

“He did some work on my roof last year. Nice guy. Easy on the eyes, too. Has he gotten help for the addiction?”

My shoulders rise and fall as I shake my head. “I don’t know. I’ve heard conflicting rumors since I left town. Some folks say he picked up drinking. Some say that he’s playing cards for money. I don’t know what to do. Also,” my tone rises, “sorry I’m over here trauma dumping.”

“No worries.” She smiles and holds out her hand. “I have that effect on people. I’m not an officially licensed therapist, but I cut hair at Creekside Cuts, so… I’m pretty sure that counts for at least a few psychology credits, right?”

“Creekside Cuts? Do you know Summer? She cut my hair before I moved.”

She nods and offers another sweet smile. “She’s my mom. I joined her a few months ago. Before that, I was working at the salon. I liked it over there, but Mom wants me to inherit the shop when she retires, so I’m learning the ropes.”

The phone rings twice, interrupting the blonde’s conversation before the receptionist picks up with a friendly greeting.

“If it’s any help, I forgave my man for a slew of things before Jasper was born.

I had this fantasy that we’d be like all the families I see on TV and read about in books.

I saw us gathered around the Christmas tree, the little cabin in the meadow, Jasper in a house with a mom and a dad.

” She laughs under her breath and uncrosses her legs.

“I forgot to see reality.” The coffee maker sputters in the corner before she continues.

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t try again with Wyatt, your situation is completely different than mine, I’m just saying… really think it through.”

I tilt my head to the side. “Why do you stay if you’re so unhappy?”

“I’m not unhappy all the time. Sometimes I’m laughing, shining, and feeling like a million bucks. Then randomly, I’ll start talking about a feeling or I’ll tell Pete about something that’s hurting me, and he’ll turn into someone I don’t know.”

“Sounds confusing,” I say, sucking on the ginger candy in my mouth.

She’s right, there’s a little zip to it.

“My grandma once told me that if someone keeps breaking your heart, you should stop handing them the pieces.” I’m meaning the advice for the blonde, but I’m wondering if I should take it as well.

She’s about to speak as a nurse dressed in bright pink scrubs steps into the waiting room and calls out a name.

“Sara Jenson.”

“That’s me!” The blonde pops up from the chair next to me and tosses her bag over her shoulder before handing me her card. “We should keep in touch.”

I glance down at the small white card with the hairdryer and scissors over her name. “Better yet, I’ll make an appointment to get my hair cut before I head back to California. I’ve been needing something new.”

“Perfect! I’ll talk to you then!” She smiles and turns away, following the nurse down a narrow hallway and toward the back of the building, leaving me alone with the ominous yet tempting prenatal magazines.

I resist the urge to continue the suffering and wander toward the bulletin board where there are pictures of babies with thank-you notes attached.

The board is so big I couldn’t say how many are actually there, but there are notes dating back at least ten years with heartfelt gratitude for helping with baby deliveries.

They don’t have a board like this at the clinic in San Francisco.

I’m reading over the notes and letting the cute baby pictures distract me when movement from the corner window catches my eye. I glance toward it, expecting to see a random shopper making their way out to the car with groceries, as the office is right across from the market.

Trouble is, I don’t see a random shopper. I see the big, tall, inked-up man who owns flannel in every color. I see the giant I haven’t spoken to in four months. The one I can’t seem to forgive. The one I claim I no longer love.

If any of that is true, why do I have an overwhelming urge to run out after him?